One Last Vow
by shattered petal
Summary: They have waited a long time for this day. -HitsuMatsu
1. Momo

**Title**: One Last Vow  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Romance  
><strong>Rating<strong>: M  
><strong>Couple<strong>: Tōshirō/Rangiku

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><p><span>One Last Vow<span>  
><strong>Chapter 1.<strong>

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><p>I am excited for an event which shall never occur. Only in times like these can I fool myself and enjoy the fantasy I'm living, but the clock ticks faster and faster. The seconds pass. I know it isn't long until I must face him, until I see him waiting for me at the aisle. And he'll be smiling, and it'll be a smile for me – his smiles are always genuine. Always, he has looked at me and smiled, and his smile is warm and loving, it is a smile any woman would want to see.<p>

The dress is perfect – I can't wait to show him. Someone said the whiteness of the material brought out the colour of my eyes. I imagined that was a compliment, so I nodded and thanked him. Inspecting myself in the mirror, I think this is going to be a wonderful, beautiful day. A special day for both me and my husband-to-be. This is a day neither of us shall forget. The day we both voice our vows, and promise to pledge our lives to one another.

Within minutes, I'm trembling in anticipation and I _must_ see him. I walk across the hall, and my dress flows as I step forwards. My heart is in my mouth; I know which room he is in, and I know he's thinking what I'm thinking: about today. About what shall happen today and the events that shall be caused from it. Together, we're restless, stunned, _thrilled_ by something so small, but so _huge_. We have been waiting for this day to come for years.

Opening the door, I don't knock, and I stand in the doorway. He's looking out of the window, and he is smart, he is handsome, and, for a moment, he is mine. He is _mine_. And I am his. I wait, wait for him to turn around. He's nervous. It's funny that this man can get so _worried_. When he does turn to face me, my heart stops, and he smiles wide. He loves my dress, I can tell, and he loves the way I look. He loves who I am, and he loves the idea of me getting married to a caring gentleman.

Then he approaches me, and holds my arm. He squeezes affectionately, and I can feel his cold reiatsu course through my skin. 'It's bad luck for the bride to see the groom before the wedding.'

I laugh. 'I'm sorry. I couldn't resist.'

'You've never really played by the rules.'

'No, I suppose I haven't.' I take his hand. I'm so happy. 'If you like, I can leave.'

It's a suggestion he is dreading to hear. 'No. Please don't.'

But I smile wider, and I love him. 'I'm not her, Tōshirō.'

He looks at me, and he's confused, he isn't sure what I'm implying. So I must comfort him, I must reassure him that everything is okay. We watch each other, and his fierce eyes are so seductive, and brilliant. I am proud of him. 'Momo?'

'Go.' I'm not angry. I have no reason to feel angry. 'I am not your lady. I never have been – we both know that, Tōshirō.'

For a moment, he seems to consider staying; he seems to consider marrying me, and loving me like he loves her, but I have reminded him that he isn't a fool. Neither of us are. We don't need to keep playing this game – we don't have to do what everyone expects of us. I have waited for him to admit he loves another, and I have waited to sigh in relief at his confession. But my dear, dear friend is so caring and selfless, he can't break my heart.

What they say about him – a dragon of ice – is inaccurate. It does not reflect what sort of man he is.

Tōshirō kisses my forehead, and smiles at me shortly, before walking past. I wait for a second, and then I know he's running, running as fast as his legs can manage. He runs in search for her, he runs for her – who holds his heart. For a little while longer, I wait, and finally my heart slows, I stop trembling, and I exhale – _relieved_.

Facing the direction he ran, I am happy.

I am happy to know I am not the woman he loves.


	2. Tōshirō

One Last Vow  
><strong>Chapter 2.<strong>

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><p>A long time ago, I knew – I just never <em>acted<em> on it. While I was with Momo, I tried to ignore this horrid feeling inside me. Of course I was aware of the emotion: _guilt_. The most rotten emotion there was. I was guilty of something I never thought I would be. For a while, I was naïve and, looking back on my actions, I regret my decision; I regret trying to convince myself that it was Momo I had fallen for. Once, yes, I had a soft spot for her. Even now, I still care about her – she is the first person I'd want to protect.

But that doesn't mean I love her.

Not in the sense that I _want_ to love her. It angers me how this has all transformed. I joined the Gotei to become a soldier; the idea of growing attached to anyone didn't appeal to me in the slightest. I didn't get close to any of the Captains or subordinates – except Momo. I was already close to her from the start, so there wasn't anything different there. However, I never fell in love with her. I fooled myself to believe I had, though – possibly out of comfort. It's remarkable what one would do in order to feel _comfort_.

When Gin Ichimaru died, and when Aizen was locked away – when the Winter War ended, everything seemed to change and _fall out of place_. Momo was suffering from so much agony, I was scared she wouldn't survive. I was losing a friend – she had been brainwashed, abused, manipulated and nearly killed. However, it wasn't just _her_ I was afraid of losing. There was another – someone dear to my heart. Even now, it pains me to think about her. I _hate_ thinking about her, because thinking about her has ruined what I am. I enjoyed being the stoic, heartless Captain who everybody felt wary about.

I am not a stoic, heartless Captain – I am the very opposite. When I fell for her – my Vice-Captain, my subordinate, my adjutant and shield – it felt terribly natural. I wasn't surprised. I only realised after Ichimaru's death. She had hid her grief well, but I knew her. It was unfortunate that I knew her, because I could see past the fake smiles. She was _exhausting_ herself. Fighting a battle she knew she couldn't win. Hiding away her misery for the sake of others – I hate how selfless and _selfish_ she can be. From the start, she showered me with affection. It took me a while to grow accustomed to her embraces, to not scowl at her bright smiles.

When those embraces and bright smiles were gone – when she couldn't find it in herself to be _happy_, I loved her. I loved her for what she was – what she had been, before that _creature_ broke her heart. It was impossible to not think about her constantly, worry if she was all right. Sometimes I even considered escorting her back home, in fear she might burst into tears and there wouldn't be anyone to comfort her. At least _I_ would be able to comfort her, but I am a proud man. Much too proud for my own good. I _couldn't_.

This was Matsumoto, though. Deep down, I knew she would be all right. There was a reason I had kept her as my Vice-Captain. Her idleness did irritate me, but when it mattered, when her duty mattered, she was the best. The Tenth Division was strong, built by two powerful Shinigami. Yet that didn't wash away the fact she was in pain, and I think she knew I was aware. I think she knew a lot of things she wasn't willing to tell me. All it took was a study of her eyes. She could cover her emotions, but her eyes betrayed her. It was a beautiful curse to possess. Matsumoto's eyes were a storm.

So, yes, to think about another woman this way – I'm bound to feel guilty.

In my desperation to _ignore_ how much I loved Matsumoto, I proposed. It was silly – the most ridiculous and pathetic escape. And when I looked up at Momo, my heart fell, because I knew she knew too. The women I befriended were not stupid – Momo was never stupid. I think she had a hunch my actions weren't completely genuine. But we only wanted to make each other happy. She wanted me to be happy, and I wanted her to be happy, so she accepted – she relieved the pain, and accepted my proposal. That was the first time I ever felt the cold. That was the first time I was weak and vulnerable to the chill; to _myself_. I hugged and kissed her, and I smiled, but I still felt the same – a numbness, a tired numbness.

Matsumoto was beaming, fussing over Momo with what dress she should wear, who should be invited, who should be the bridesmaid, and Momo was equally as excited. I watched Matsumoto closely, wondering if she would reveal any signs of envy – _something_. Afterwards, I laughed at myself. Matsumoto would only be joyful with what has occurred. She would be happy, and that was final. When Momo had gone, Matsumoto came over and hugged me. It was a hug I hadn't received in a while. I didn't return it.

'You're getting so tall, Captain,' she said, 'You're taller than me now! I can't hug you like I used to.'

It hit me she was feeling nostalgic, so I rolled my eyes. Trust Matsumoto to get emotional over nothing. 'Your grief will pass.' I was grateful she told me I was taller, though. I needed to be reassured I was growing – turning into a man. 'Thank you for supporting our engagement.' I looked away and faced the window. It was beginning to rain.

'Why wouldn't I be? I'm so happy for you, Captain.'

And I wished she wasn't. I wished she hated the idea. I wished she would tell me to cancel the engagement, to forget about the wedding. I wished she would tell me what to do. But I wasn't a child anymore, and she had no right to say what I should or shouldn't do. She was _just_ a Vice-Captain. 'Thank you.'

'I've got to get you something nice – you can't go dressed like this. You need to be dressed _smartly_, Captain. I can always go out and get you a fancy suit. Just give me the day off and I'll––'

'Do you think this is a good idea?'

A pause. 'What? Me buying your wedding outfit? _Yes_.'

I sighed, because I knew she was playing around. She knew what I meant. 'No.' I turned to face her. '_This_. Hinamori and I, Matsumoto.'

The way she looked at me was hard to forget. Matsumoto looked at me, and she was confused, and she even appeared hurt. Appalled that I would ask such a question. _Insulted_. I hated it, I hated how she looked at me, and I wanted her to stop. I wanted to shrug my shoulder and forget what I asked, but I couldn't – I had asked her and there was no going back.

'Do you love her?'

The question didn't startle me. My reply was quick, simple: 'I don't.'

Matsumoto stared up at me, and I thought she might slap me. She had every reason to. How could I trick a woman into marrying me when I didn't even love her? But she didn't slap me. Matsumoto wouldn't hurt me. Her voice was soft, a whisper. 'I think you just answered your question, Captain.'

The smiles had gone, the joy in her eyes had disappeared. 'I'm sorry.' It wasn't hard to apologise. It was so easy. Everything was so easy.

Matsumoto frowned, 'What for?'

I was tired, too. 'Isn't it obvious?'

We both dealt with the situation the best we could by ignoring it ever happened. But I knew she still remembered; she simply couldn't bring herself to ask me about it, and I couldn't bring myself to ask her about it either. We were in silence together, and it was dreadful. The closer it got to the wedding, the more Matsumoto seemed repelled by me. Only she knew the truth.

Momo noted it was funny how Matsumoto's name appeared at the top of the guest list. I didn't find it humorous in the slightest. That name _glared _at me, taunted me. I knew what I had to do – I had to get rid of her. I couldn't have her witnessing our wedding – witnessing a lie. I knew she was disappointed in me, that she even felt betrayed by me. I couldn't handle the fact I had hurt her – that, somehow, I had become a bad man.

A mission in the Material World was set on the same day as our wedding. One of the Shinigami had dropped out, so I stole this opportunity to send Matsumoto away. It was a nice location, isolated – we wouldn't be bumping into each other anytime soon.

'Don't look at me like that, Captain.'

There wasn't any hint of anger or frustration in her voice – it was close to sympathy, but it wasn't that. She looked at me like I looked at her. I turned away at her comment. 'Don't you think I'd rather be looking at Hinamori this way?'

No answer. Matsumoto had no response, no advice to share. I heard her tidy away her things on her desk, and she brushed past me, and I knew she was trying to catch my gaze. She liked the way I looked at her. Sometimes, I looked this way at Hinamori. She said any woman would love to be looked at like that by a man. Of course, it was easy to pull on a mask and _pretend_. I would only look this way at _one person_, who I had sent away because I was marrying someone else. Someone else who I didn't love.

Then it was clear I had upset her. Without meaning to, I ripped Matsumoto's heart. Done the very thing I swore not to do; done exactly what Ichimaru had done.

'Good bye, Captain.'

When she left, I shivered.  
>It had gone cold.<p>

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><p>I miss her. I regret sending her away, when right now is the one time I need her. But, I have always needed her. There is no other way around how I feel about her. I am a fool. A stupid fool. I have always been smart, tactful, thought through things before I acted. And, foolishly, I jumped into this. I jumped to the conclusion that, if I married Momo, my feelings for Matsumoto would disappear. They haven't, and looking at myself in the mirror, dressed in the smartest outfit I could find, I want nothing more than to stab myself in the chest. I want nothing more than to punish myself for what I have done, for who I have played with and <em>hurt<em>.

Suddenly the door opens, but I know who it is. I hesitate, uncertain if I can turn around and look at her, but I must. I _have_ to.

_'It's bad luck for the bride to see the groom before the wedding_.'

Momo is beautiful, and any genetleman would be lucky to have her, but I am not that gentleman. And she knows – '_I am not your lady, Tōshirō._' At first, I am confused, and worried, but she smiles at me, and everything is okay; she's happy. Yet I still hesitate, I open my mouth to tell her to stop this, we _will_ get married, she _is_ my lady. But I can't. If I spoke those words, even I wouldn't believe them. My heart is in my mouth, and I kiss her forehead, and I am so _grateful_ she is my friend. I am so grateful to have Momo, and I love her for what she has done, what she has offered me. I love her as my closest friend, and she knows this.

I think I smile at her – I'm not sure. My vision is a little dizzy, and I'm not too sure what I'm doing. I can feel my feet running; _I'm running_. Rushing. Chasing, but I know why. I know what I'm doing – finally it all makes perfect sense.

_I run for her_.

All I can hope for is that Rangiku will smile at me again; _that __she'll be mine_.

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><p><strong>author's note<strong>: Hey there. I appreciate the previous chapter was quite confusing, but hopefully this chapter will have cleared a few things up. Thank you **nish0**, **[ 78 ]**, **Kojo208** and **[ Kobato ]** for reviewing the prior chapter. **[ 78 ]** asked if this is an AU, and it's set quite a few years after the manga, so I suppose it is a future-AU, yes.


	3. Rangiku

One Last Vow  
><strong>Chapter 3.<strong>

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><p>More than anything in the world, I want the hour to pass. I refuse to sit around and idle; the mission my Captain sent me on was finished ages ago, but I know he doesn't want me to return. At least, not until his marriage is done, until it is final. He doesn't need to voice what he wants – I know, and I <em>hate<em> myself for knowing. I'm tempted to hate him for sending me away, but Tōshirō is not a man in black and white.

In so many ways, he's uncertain and lacks confidence. At times I find it sweet how he struggles to come to a decision, or gets embarrassed when he does or says something wrong. It's a comforting reminder that he's still human, that the Gotei hasn't transformed him into a machine which simply follows orders. I like to think I've helped him in that way – I've helped him develop as a character, gain confidence.

However, ironically, the one time he seems to need my advice the most he can't even look at me. When he ordered me away, his words hurt, but they were filled with so much shame and regret, I wasn't sure whether to be angry, upset or sympathetic. He's still a child in some ways, still adapting and developing. Yet when it comes to love, I believe I'm equally as useless and pathetic. Love cannot be explained, and no one can give _advice_ on it. Once you've fallen into that horrid trap, there isn't an escape. Every second stings. Love is like teeth, sharp, digging into one's flesh, oozing with poison.

Love is a snake – silent, cold and almost fatal. One just needs to learn how to skip around it, dodge its fangs. That takes practise, though, and _time_. Unfortunately, I haven't the time to practise. Clearly. I told myself once was enough – Gin was enough. I couldn't torture myself like that again, and I couldn't wait for my heart to be smashed once more. I thought about closing myself off, building my walls, detaching myself – it seemed appealing at the time.

But when was _love_ ever an option? A choice to make.

With Tōshirō, it was a gradual and soft revelation. I can't remember when I realised what he meant to me. The rush was so extreme, I thought it was a "phase". I was leaning on him like this because I had been hurt. When I finally healed, I would feel _normal_ about him again. Lately, I've become very naïve. How I wish love worked that way. How I wish it would leave, that I could control it.

Maybe I became convinced he felt the same by how he looked at me. How his usual cold, chilling eyes softened, how they _melted_. The way he watched me was so gentle; it soothed me. Even now, I miss the way he smiles – and his beautiful smiles are rare. How youthful he can appear, how boyish and handsome. He isn't the boy I met all of those years ago. He's grown – it has taken a while for him to grow so much, but, to me, it feels too fast.

Through his maturity, he developed, and the look he gives me began to form. At first, I didn't think much of it. Tōshirō had his moods: one day he was happy, the next he was grumpy because someone at work was being an ass. But it wasn't that, I later discovered.

It was only a look for me. I like to study people, and I studied him well, I studied him around others, how he looked at Momo, his soon-to-be wife. He never looked at her like he did with me. His eyes didn't soften, and the ice that seemed to shield his body didn't melt around her. He didn't have a smile for her – not a genuine, special smile. I laughed to myself, because I thought I was simply being romantic. I was fantasising, I was being silly – _again_.

Of course he convinced me otherwise.

'_Don't you think I'd rather be looking at Hinamori this way?'_

The room I'm in is small – the nice couple who own the hotel said I could stay for as long as I wanted. Honestly, I feel tempted to stay here forever. I have no desire to return back to the Gotei, and witness my Captain – my Tōshirō – walking hand-in-hand with a woman he admits to not loving. The ring on his fourth finger will be a lie – it isn't him. It isn't him to lie and deceive – he is kinder.

Maybe that's why I'm so _upset_. Because he isn't that sort of man. I've met men who are foul, the type of men who only have eyes for breasts and thighs. I like Tōshirō because he _isn't_ like that – he doesn't care for physical appearance, he cares for what's inside. I respect him for who he is, but, right now, I'm struggling. I want to grab him and slap him – I want to scream at him. I want to _hate_ him for shoving me aside so easily, without even looking back.

I can't hate him, though. He's marrying her because he can't hurt her – he doesn't have it in him to hurt Momo. Or me, hence why he sent me away. His actions were selfless; his actions have always been selfless. I can't hate him – because his funnily expressed selfless actions are what I love. What I love about him.

Hating him is... _exhausting_.

Wrapping the blanket around me tighter, I sit on the bed and gaze idly out of the window. It's raining, and I pull a face. I hate rain. Raising the bottle of whiskey to my lips, I let the alcohol burn down my throat, and it has never tasted better. Urgh, it's disgustingly warm though. I'm almost tempted to call Tōshirō and ask him to "chill" my whiskey, but I know better. Without a doubt, he's probably saying his vows at this very moment. Plus, it sounds like a terrible innuendo.

Well, at least Momo looked great in her dress. That _I_ picked out for her, by the way.

Just as I consider sending a message to Momo after the wedding, I hear a knock at the door. Downing another gulp of whiskey, I slide off the bed, blanket around me, and walk towards the door. There's more knocking, and I exclaim, 'All right, I'm coming!'

Opening the door wide, I look at my rude guest, and frown. Wait. Alcohol doesn't usually take this long to set in. I'm not drunk. So why is Tōshirō standing in front of me? Why is–?

'I hate to break it to you, Captain, but this isn't where the ceremony is happening,' I murmur, leaning against the doorframe.

It hurts to see him looking so well dressed, for another woman. His hair is neatly combed, and he's clean shaven. The uniform fits his body perfectly, and he looks smart and old. He looks like himself, and it's as if he's _taunting_ me. Dangling himself in front of me to cause more pain. Is this some sort of sick revenge?

He opens his mouth to speak, then scoffs at my statement. 'No. I came here to see you.'

My heart skips a beat, but I prepare myself for the worst. 'Why?'

Taking the bottle of whiskey from me, he steps forwards, and he smiles at me like he always has. _That_ smile. And I already know. I already know why he is here. It can't be clearer.

'I made a mistake.'

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><p><strong>author's note<strong>: Thank you **nish0**, **[ Kobato ]**, **sagitgirlth**, **Kojo208** and **Universal-Public-Cockblocker** for reviewing the prior chapter!


	4. Vow

One Last Vow  
><strong>Chapter 4.<strong>

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><p>'How long did it take you to realise?'<p>

Tōshirō steps inside, and closes the door behind him. They watch each other in silence and, effortlessly, the entire room freezes at his presence. Rangiku knows the only reason he cannot control his reiatsu is because he's distracted; this distraction has taken over his mind, stripped away his armour, and all that's left is a man, a normal, human being searching for guidance. From the beginning, he has always turned to her when in need of advice, he has always turned to her if he isn't sure with what to do.

Yet, for the first time, Rangiku is equally as clueless. She knows at least one thing, though: letting him leave would shatter her heart all over again. She wants to hold him, and hold him close. There is guilt swimming in his eyes, and she wants to tell him he isn't a bad man for not allowing the wedding to happen. But she can't speak. Just the sight of him, standing in her doorway, so close to slip away from her grip, makes her speechless, even breathless.

'Too long.' It's not a voice she's familiar with. It's _his_ voice. And his voice trembles with emotions he doesn't know what to do with, and his voice is filled with anxiety, fear and painful devotion. He looks at her so softly, and, in an odd sort of way, it makes him appear older than he is.

Finally she can move. The blanket slips off her shoulders and she kisses him hard, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Tōshirō responds in kind, and her warm mouth is inviting, her tongue teasing his lower lip before kissing him passionately, her hand resting at the back of his head, squeezing his thick, white hair. Their lips dance together as he gently ushers her back, exploring the curve of her waist, running over her small shoulders before holding her face between his hands, his kisses becoming more assertive, more needy. _Wanting_.

They break away momentarily, and she lets him kiss her neck, his lips slightly chapped but gentle against her warm flesh. Rangiku tilts her head back, and releases a quiet moan as he continues to kiss her down to her collarbone. Her hands move down from his face, to the collar of his shirt, to the jacket, and she pulls it open, strips the jacket off his body. Tōshirō can feel her breath against his lips, and he kisses her again, his arms curling around her waist and he feels her shiver.

She gasps when his shirt crumples to the floor, and she can touch him. He's so cold, and he hisses at her touch, the heat of her reiatsu burning his flesh, but he's addicted. Rangiku's hands are soft when they slide down his chest. Suddenly the two lovers are in a hurry, they're rushing. Both are blind and whatever sense they have left is gone. Manipulated by their love for one another. Tōshirō's hands are strong at her clothes, and she helps him undress her. Her breasts feel like silk under his rough palms, and she exhales heavily, her lips brushing over his while he massages her chest, slowly, and they kiss again.

When she whispers his name into his mouth, Tōshirō is a man possessed. He lifts her off the ground and they fall onto the bed. Tōshirō captures her lips again, and bites possessively on her lower lip, earning a moan of surprise. Sending his hands through her gorgeous, flaming hair he feels his chest tighten, and his body trembles terribly when she unbuckles the belt to his trousers. Rangiku notices, and takes his hands in her own, their fingers interlock, and she squeezes.

'It's okay,' she says quietly; she knows that while he is a master at sparring, while he is almost unbeatable on the field, he is not a man who has experienced love before. Rangiku eases herself up and kisses his cheek several times, and her left hand slips from his to rest against his face. Their eyes meet, and she is transfixed by his eyes: an emerald green, sharp, fixed; dilated pupils, and a tenderness she hasn't witnessed before. 'I love you.'

It amazes him how she confesses so effortlessly. She is the first to reveal the secret hidden between them; she is the strongest out of the two –– _she loves him_. It's enough to help him relax, feel safe and secure. _She loves him_. She isn't going anywhere. And her love is powerful, like a fire itself, scolding his body and heart, and he desires every inch of her. Their bare chests press together when he leans down to kiss her, and he is consciously aware of Rangiku bringing her legs around his hips, a sign that he is welcome, invited and deserving. He is hers. She is his.

They don't strip completely; seeing the other naked is nothing uncommon to them. They already know each other so well –– better than anyone. She unzips his fly, and her hand roams for a moment, finding him, and Tōshirō pushes a little, her hips bucking at his encouragement. Finally, he enters her, and they're relieved, but already gasping for breath. Tōshirō's heart thuds against his chest when he kisses her again, and she moans softly, her palms gently holding his face.

He is anxious, and rocks, but they can't find their sync. Tōshirō has been completely removed from what has hidden him; Rangiku has effortlessly peeled away his helmet and shield, and he is confused and uncertain; _he can't think_. She holds her breath, and his movements are too sudden, too fast, and she needs to tell him it's okay. It's okay to be this way; _nothing has to happen_. But she doesn't need to voice her words, he only needs to catch her eye and _realise_.

Rangiku presses her hands on his shoulders, and he is soon on his back, she straddling his hips, and they're still one. Lowering herself to kiss his lips, she is soft and _calm_, trying her best to ease him, feel safe. He may be in a vulnerable position, but she won't hurt him. Tōshirō has lived his entire life living under a shell, protected himself from others, and now, suddenly, he has welcomed someone into his life, literally given her the knife to stab him with.

But she has thrown it away without a thought. Tōshirō feels warmer, but he is tortured by the pleasure rising from where she has him. Rangiku breaks their kiss, and keeps her hands pressed on his chest while she rocks. She is slow, and the tightness of her flower makes him groan, pushing his head back against the sheets. They make love together, and he closes his eyes, his body raging, _scolding_ by her heat, her moans and gasps so wonderful to his ears.

The chill has been zapped from him, and when he opens his eyes, he raises himself to his elbows and kisses her passionately. Tōshirō is finally convinced she shan't abuse this vulnerability he has expressed, and takes charge. They meet again when he raises himself over her, but his movements aren't as slow. They're more forceful, slightly faster, but this time they fall into sync together. Rangiku presses her heel against the lower of his back, and the sensation of him rubbing against her folds brings her to her climax. It's sudden and takes them both by surprise.

When her muscles relax, Rangiku lets out a quiet moan, and Tōshirō pauses momentarily. He lowers himself to his elbows, and wipes away a few strands of hair from her face. 'Rangiku... I will love you, respect you, console you and help you... until death.' He kisses her briefly, and adds: 'I swear.'

His vows echo in her ears, and, of all moments, she realises how boyish he looks when his hair is a mess. His cheeks are slightly red, but he is smiling. It's a small smile, but it's a smile which holds so much for her. It's a smile of happiness. He's happy. Finally, he is happy.

Miraculously, she finds her voice, 'And I you.'

Tōshirō raises himself, and everything is finally sealed between them. Their promises are never broken, and this one last promise between the two shall be engraved in their hearts. They are the vows which they have voiced silently to each other for years, but never had the courage or strength to _speak_ them. Neither have been in the position to, so wrapped up in their armour, hidden behind their blade, and distracted by war. Until now.

From this moment on nothing is secret, anymore. Their last vows have started something beautiful, something which shall flourish and be envied, but their fates are now darkened. Connected and made one together, Tōshirō and Rangiku are inseparable, creating a love so inconceivable it shall torture them both to their dying day.

Their last vows are their first; _final_.

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><p><strong>End.<strong>

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><p><strong>author's note<strong>: This story didn't have much of a plot behind it; I wanted to write something light-hearted and simple, so here you have it. By the way, the vows Tōshirō spoke were the Japanese vows (obviously translated into English) when at a wedding ceremony. I thought that would be a nice touch. Thank you **Universal-Public-Cockblocker**, **[ Kobato ]** and **sagitgirlth** for reviewing the prior chapter. Until next time!

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><p><span>Acknowledgments<span>:-

1) I do not own _Bleach_, or any of the characters written in this story. All I own is my writing and, I suppose, the story.  
>2) Thank you everyone for your encouragement in your reviews. I always appreciate and read every one; they mean a great deal to me!<br>3) I always have to acknowledge my cats. I mean, _who wouldn't_?


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